Some Kind of Wonderful (Puffin Island 2)
“It’s not fair to make Em cook without any warning.”
“She doesn’t need to cook.” Smiling, he slid his arms around her. “We’ll drive via Seagull’s Nest. I happen to know where I can find a large casserole that needs eating …”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
THANKS TO MY wonderful agent, Susan Ginsburg, and the team at Writers House who continue to guide my career.
I’m so lucky to have as my editor the lovely and talented Flo Nicoll, who works tirelessly to ensure every book is the best it can be. Thanks to Dianne Moggy for the endless encouragement and support, and to Susan Swinwood and the rest of the team at HQN for their wonderful work. Special thanks to Lisa Wray for her valuable help with publicity. I appreciate all you do!
My heartfelt thanks to everyone in the Harlequin UK office, including Anna Baggaley, Vicky Tinsley and the whole sales and marketing team. I’m grateful for the dedication they show in ensuring my books reach as many readers as possible.
My love and appreciation goes to my family, who continue to accept my unusual choice of job (and the associated lack of catering) with patience and good humor.
And finally my biggest thanks goes to you, the reader, for choosing this book, thus ensuring that I can continue with a career I love.
Free-spirited Skylar Tempest has never seen eye-to-eye with brooding Alec Hunter, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t find him outrageously attractive! This Christmas, will she finally get to kiss him under the mistletoe?
Read on for a sneak peek at the last book in Sarah Morgan’s Puffin Island trilogy —it’s brimming with Christmas magic!
‘I have spread my dreams beneath your feet. Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.’
—W. B. Yeats
CHAPTER ONE
Skylar Tempest stepped out of her hotel and lifted her face to the sky. Soft, thick flakes of snow drifted down from a sky of midnight-blue, dusting her hair and blending with the wool of her white coat. It was like standing inside a snow globe.
She reached out and caught a snowflake in her palm, watching as it slowly dissolved, its beauty fleeting and ephemeral.
London was experiencing a cold spell, and bets were on for the first white Christmas in years. The snow had been falling for a couple of hours and the streets were frosted silver-white. It was easy on the eye and lethal underfoot—which was why she’d decided to take a cab rather than walk the glittering length of Knightsbridge to the gallery.
She didn’t want to arrive at the most important night of her life with a black eye.
With a smile that left the doorman dazzled, she stepped into the waiting cab.
Cocooned in warmth, she watched as people bustled along the crowded streets. They walked heads down, snuggled in layers of wool to keep out the cold. Stores with elaborately decorated windows shone bright with fairy lights, beaming shimmering silver across the snow.
Drinking in the light and colour, she fought the temptation to reach for the sketchpad she always carried. In a world that often presented its ugly side, Skylar looked for the beauty and captured it in her art. She worked in a variety of mediums, dabbled in ceramics, but her first love was jewellery.
The necklace she’d chosen to wear tonight was an example of her work and the only splash of colour in her outfit. She’d designed it as part of her latest collection, but she’d fallen in love with the piece and kept it. The stones were a mixture of blues and greens: Mediterranean hues that added warmth to the cold December evening.
Tonight was her big night, she was in one of her favourite cities at her favourite time of year, and Richard was joining her.
They’d been an item for over a year. A year in which his entire focus had been his political career. Since he’d won his senate seat the pressures had intensified. They’d barely seen each other in the months leading up to the election, and the time they had spent together had been marred by his incendiary moods. She’d resigned herself to attending the private showing of her collection alone, so his call from the airport had been a surprise.
Now she was eagerly anticipating the night ahead.
Starting tonight, everything was going to be different. With the stress of the election behind them, they’d finally be able to enjoy quality time and do all the things they’d talked about doing.
He’d hinted that he had a special Christmas gift for her.
A trip to Florence, maybe?
He knew how much she’d always wanted that.
Or Paris, maybe? To visit the Louvre and the Musée d’Orsay.
Her mood lifted.